Traitor Arc:King Edmund the Just
by BML Hillen-Keene
Summary: Traitors Arc: Story 1. Not everyone in Narnia is as forgiving as Aslan and his siblings. But can Edmund learn what it means to be a Jut King when faced with the remnants of the Witch's army?
1. Chapter 1

_Traitors Arc: King Edmund the Just_

_Disclaimer: Own nothing. It would be nice to be able to say I did create this world and these characters, but that would be lying._

_A/N: Okay, a little out of order perhaps, but this is the first story in the Traitors Arc. Um... no spoilers I don't think. I know pretty much nothing about Narnia because my interest is in the characters, most notably Edmund, but I am trying to remedy this fact. This is from Edmunds POV, the way he perceives how people treat him, so for all we know everyone could be planning a giant surprise birthday party for him, and he wouldn't know. The only reason I mention this, is because he is very paranoid and rather angsty in this. _

_Traitors Arc: Not everyone is as forgiving as Aslan, Peter, Susan and Lucy, and I believe that Edmund probably had to put up with a lot before he was finally fully trusted and his betrayal forgotten. Edmund learns what being 'Just' really is, and makes himself a few new friends along the way._

Traitors Arc: King Edmund the Just

In the days following the coronation Edmund could normally be found in the giant library the palace offered. If he was not to be found there then he was either training with Oreius, or eating with his siblings. This should afford you the ability to work out just how long he spent in the library. Very rarely did he ever actually sleep in his room, having been woken by on thing or another, most likely a silent nightmare, that would not allow him anymore sleep, so he retreated to the library, and was normally discovered by a servant sometime before breakfast, fast asleep, surrounded by tomes and scrolls. Most woke him, giving him time to return to his rooms and change before his siblings came in looking for him to go to breakfast with them.

So even his dear brother and sisters did not realise the extent of his time spent in the library.

What was he doing there?

Edmund had, the very day they had become Kings and Queens of Narnia, done some serious thinking, especially after hearing what he would be known as. King Edmund the Just. But really, just what exactly did he know about being 'Just'. Nothing. He was a frightful person really. Before Narnia he had spent much of his time being cruel to Lucy, arguing with Peter, ignoring Susan. And after he had come to Narnia?

He flinched away from that train of thought, as he normally did subconsciously now.

So he had decided to research just what it meant to be 'Just', but the idea was truly to abstract, that he kept getting a different definition in every book his looked in. Some said that it was the showing of mercy towards others. Another said it was the serving of punishment for misdeeds. He needed a definition that made sense to him, because surely you could not show mercy all the time and you could not punish everything a person did. They would end up like him if you did.

A traitor.

Again his subconscious swallowed that up with another flinch.

He would need to keep searching, that was all he could do.

x

Two weeks after he had become King Edmund realised that there were those in the castle who stopped speaking when he came near them, and watched him as he did what he had to do before leaving. Nothing was ever said, and it wasn't really overt. But once he had realised that it was happening, it was impossible to miss it.

It was oppressive.

He could think of no way to stop it. He had tried smiling at them, but the expression he received in return was strained, and obviously forced. He had attempted to make conversation, but it was stilted and normally ended with someone excusing themselves hurriedly.

It began to feel as if he was some kind of imposter, watched and unwelcome.

Not that he could really blame them. His betrayal was still fresh, he held himself as much accountable as they did.

He said nothing to Peter, Susan or Lucy, and they never seemed to notice.

x

Almost a month after becoming King Edmund noticed that clothes he had sent to be washed were returned either not done, or not done enough. More than once, he had found a patch of dirt from training still there. There would be apologies all round when he mentioned this to his valet, but it continued to happen.

He was not sure if it was his valet, who seemed an agreeable sort, and sometimes stayed and spoke to him, and seemed friendly enough. But perhaps he was merely pretending. Was it possible?

Edmund tried to tell himself he was being paranoid, that perhaps he had actually just forgotten to send the clothes to the wash. After all, why would anyone send back unwashed clothes?

He shied away from the reasons.

He had tried hard over the past month to not let the cut off conversations and watchful eyes get to him, did his duties as well as he could, and continued his research on how to be a truly Just King. If he ever thought of his own situation while reading he set it aside, declaring it to be justice. After all, the Narnia's deserved their justice, and he had not had punishment enough, not for what he had done.

He had heard the whispers about what Aslan had done for him. How ungrateful he was to strut around a king, when Aslan had let himself be killed, for the likes of him.

Yes, the Narnian's did not have to forgive him as Aslan, Peter, Susan and Lucy had, he did not expect it of them. He just hoped he could prove to them that he could change, and be a good king.

x

Five weeks after becoming King Edmund noticed, with some great shock, that not all those that tutored him and Peter in the art of fighting, like him very much. Before this there had been no real indication, but then, before this he and Peter had only sparred each other, Oreius, or Killian the faun. But new tutors in different weapons and fighting styles had been introduced, and Edmund had the unlucky chance to be against someone who did not like him.

What was supposed to be an instruction lesson became a fight in which he honestly feared for his life. He defended, but never attacked, not knowing how to, or if he should. Oreius, who had been watching had called a halt to the mach fairly quickly, and had dismissed the trainer, but not soon enough to prevent Edmund receiving a shallow cut on his forearm.

He had offered his services should Edmund ever need to speak with him about anything. Edmund thank him, allowed Peter to fuss over the cut, and let Susan and Lucy bundle him into bed, telling him he was in shock over such an unwarranted attack. Edmund endured it with surprising good humour, until he was alone, and his smile dropped and his thoughts began down a dark path.

How many of the soldiers did not like him? Did not trust him? If they did not trust him, they would not do as he directed them in battle. Which meant that something could happen to Peter, or Susan, or Lucy.

What could he do to prevent this?

Train harder perhaps; try to prove himself worthy of leading them in battle? Was it everyone? Or just a few?

He ended up in the library again that night, this time researching everything he could on battle strategies.

x

Nearly eight weeks later Edmund was summoned to the 'War Room' a huge room of which much of it was devoted to a giant table map of Narnia and her borders. It was old, from before the hundred year winter. The new map was being drawn up, and there were hopes that there should be a rough draft of it within six months, the proper one would likely take two years to make perfectly. So for the moment the old map was in use, some crude additions made where things were known to be different.

He met Peter and Oreius, and two other generals in the room.

"There have been some reports of many Fell creatures in the area surrounding the Witch's castle." Oreius told them, and Edmund could not prevent the slight shudder. Why did everything always have to come back to the witch? For just a little while, could there not be some other enemy? Though she was dead, and he knew she was not coming back, he still had nightmares, nightmares that she had come for her blood, and Aslan had turned from him.

Shaking off these thoughts he focused on the map, and on what Oreius was saying. This could be a chance to prove himself, or a test to see who would or would not listen to him.

"Why there?" Peter asked.

"It's like a base of operations, isn't it? Like how our soldiers would all come back here if something happened to us, it's a defensible location that they can hold for a while. And really, what self respecting Narnian wants to go to the Witches castle? For them it would be the safest place to fall back to." Edmund told him.

He missed the surprised looks on everyone's face as he had turned his attention to the area that held the witches castle. He frowned as he looked at the map. Finally he pointed to just outside the small valley that held the giant fortress. "Where could they get to from here? Where would they be likely to go?" he looked up at Oreius.

Oreius took a moment to look at the map, nodding to himself before pointing to an area slightly further north of the castle, on the border. "The Ettin Border." At Edmund and Peter's blank looks, he explained. "Ettin's are a race of giants who sided with the witch. I am sure they would probably take in any of her army that wished to join them. They do not like Narnia, though why has been lost through the ages."

Peter was nodding along quite seriously. "So letting them get there is most definitely not in Narnia's best interests, or we could have another war on our hands if they take into their heads to invade?"

"I would think so Your Majesty." Oreius nodded.

"So where would it be best to strike?"

Edmund pointed to the map, at the small opening in the mountains around the witch's castle that lead to the forest bordering towards the Ettin land. "One party should be there, either to cut off the escape route, or to force them out the other side where the other part of the army should be waiting." He seemed to realise he was getting some strange looks, so he snatched his hand back and looked at the generals. "Sorry, was I wrong?" after all, he was just applying what he had read; it wasn't like he had any actual knowledge.

"No King Edmund."

Peter was peering at the map, and when he looked up he smiled warmly at Edmund. "Ed, that's a brilliant plan, I didn't know you did strategies." There was a question in that, and Edmund head it and responded with a small shrug.

"I read it; I've been sort of reading up on stuff like this in my spare time."

He could see Peter try to work out what free time he was referring to. In between the many lessons on proper etiquette, or perhaps in between weapons practice, or matters of the crown. He could also see when Peter considered that he might be using his nights to look this stuff up; he ignored the concerned look his brother cast his way. Thankfully though Peter never asked, so Edmund didn't have to lie.

"I'll lead the group going in this side," he pointed to the main way between the two mountains. "You take the smaller way. Is that ok Ed?"

Edmund nodded, even though he felt a wave of something close to panic at the idea of commanding a group of soldiers. How did he know if they would--?

No. He had to stop this, it was getting ridiculous now. He really needed to get over it. They were professionals, they would listen to him because he was their king, and if not because of that, then at least because if they did then they would be protecting the other monarchs. All he had to do was keep his head and stop being so paranoid.

"We should leave soon, tomorrow, or the day after?" Peter asked Oreius.

"Tomorrow." Oreius replied easily.

Peter nodded. "Ok, come on Ed, we had best go tell the girls about this. Will you be alright to organise everything Oreius?"

"Of course Majesty."

Edmund followed Peter from the War room, and through the castle to find the girls.

x

Three days hard marching later they had reached the mountains, between which the witch's castle sat. Edmund had no wish to see it, but it was an impossible hope. It was here that the army split, and Edmund would lead the second party on the day long trek around the mountain and to the small gap behind them. The worries he had forced aside when they began this journey were beginning to leak through, not enough to make him too paranoid, but enough to keep him on edge.

The attack would begin tomorrow an hour after dawn.

His orders were followed with little grumbling, and as the day progressed he began to feel a little better about this position. By nightfall they had reached the small pass. To the left of the pass, not a hundred yards was a fast flowing river. It was quickly declared dangerous, and he was told he should not go too near it for fear if he fell in he would be carried off.

For the first time in a while he was starting to feel as if something was going right.

x

The attack was unexpected, the alarm was sounded in the predawn light by the sentries, and there was a quick scramble to arms. Obviously a group had been trying to sneak out in the dark hours of the night to escape notice. Edmund found himself in battle almost immediately.

Much of the battle assed him in a blur, he was so concentrated on keeping himself alive, he did not notice he was being backed towards the river. One small misstep backwards was all it took, and he was tumbling into the icy waters. As the current caught him and he was swept away he wondered if anyone would think to tell Peter what had happened to him.

Would anyone even notice he had fallen?

A collision with a rock cast him into unconsciousness, and he knew no more.

_Ohhh, chapter 1 finished. I shouldn't think this will be longer than three or four chapters. I am now officially rather proud of myself. Four stories in the course of 24 hours. I hope you enjoyed, and will wait for the next chapter._

_Please Review._


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Back again, the second part of King Edmund the Just. Here is where it gets interesting. There is a lot I want to say in this story, but the fact I am doing it centred on Edmund makes that difficult for me, but I tend to cram things in without meaning to, hopefully it won't be too noticeable._

_Please enjoy._

Traitors Arc: King Edmund the Just

When Edmund came to it was some surprise to find himself dry, and warm. Perhaps some of his soldiers had found him and taken him back to camp. He wouldn't be at all surprised if, when he opened his eyes, he found Peter leaning over him worriedly. He listened for a long moment before even attempting to open his eyes, he could hear voices, but could not make out the words. Something shifted beside him.

He opened his eyes, deciding not to keep his brother waiting any longer.

What he saw was not his brother.

"He's awake, he's awake, the funny creature is awake!" A small grey/black wolf cub was bouncing on the floor beside the rough pallet he was lying on.

Edmund, once it had registered that he was not amongst friends, instantly checked around the room, shoving himself off the floor and into a sitting position when he realised that the voices he had heard were from two beasts over to the side, a Harpy and a Minotaur, who were watching him just as carefully as he was them.

"Bright-spark." The harpy trilled, and the wolf cub stopped bouncing and turned to look at her. "Thank you for your help, perhaps you should go back to your sisters."

The cub whined. "But they're boring; can't I stay and help you with the funny creature?"

The Minotaur spoke then in a rumbling snort. "Go." It was a clear order, and the cub, Bright-spark, hung his head.

"Yes Maxus." He turned eager, brought grey eyes to Edmund. "I'm glad your better, you'll come lay with me when Milrina lets you out right? My sisters are really boring, and never have adventures with me."

"Bright-spark." The Minotaur warned.

The cub bounded out of the... Edmund paused and looked around again; he was in some sort of hole, under the roots of a giant tree. There was one exit, and the Fell beasts were between him and it. He looked back at them.

The Harpy, looking a little nervous moved forwards, her wings fluttering a little, clutching a bowl of something. Edmund shrank back as she approached, he had no weapon, and these were creatures that had served under the White Witch.

"We do not intend to harm you, Son of Adam." The Minotaur said gruffly.

Keeping a wary eye in the harpy woman Edmund asked. "Then what do you intend to do? Use me against Narnia?"

There was a huff of sound that could have been a chuckle, but Edmund could not be sure, it could also have been a snort of derision. "Why would we do that? The Queen is dead, we have no more quarrel with you or your kin, or your land. We just wish to be left in peace. When Milrina has seen you well you may leave, as long as you promise to tell no one of this place."

Edmund's first impulse was to demand answers, demand to know what their plans were. Ask how he could be sure they did not intend to mount some sort of resistance against them. But he checked those impulses, remembering the cub. And the mention of sisters. Should he condemn them? They were in no way old enough to have fought for the Witch.

He said nothing as the harpy reached out with a damp cloth to press against the cut on his head, hissing a little in pain, the cloth was snatched back, and Edmund was horrified to note that the woman was afraid of him, even though he was unarmed and at their mercy.

He looked at the Minotaur. "How many are you?" he asked, biting back a second hiss as the cloth was returned to the cut hesitantly.

The Minotaur looked weary. "Not enough to defend ourselves. Which is why I ask for your promise." It was an honest answer, and Edmund could appreciate it.

"How many fought for the Witch?"

The Minotaur tensed then, and straightened to his full height, his head sending a showering of soil spiralling to the ground. He did not answer.

Edmund frowned, thinking furiously. These people had save his life, and had looked after him, despite his being one of the Kings of Narnia, the one who had broken the Witches wand, and had aided in her defeat. But yet they had still helped him. He and the Narnian army had set out with the purpose of ridding Narnia of the Fell beasts. But though Edmund had not seen a lot of this place he was on, or its people, he knew, instinctively, that it would be wrong to condemn them.

"I am not going to pass judgement. After all, you have me at your mercy sir, I merely wish to know. For if it is as you say, and none of you wish to harm my family or the new Narnia, then I will do my best to see that you are left to your peace." He could not promise, but he would try if what he had been told was true.

The Minotaur studied him for a long moment, but he must have seen something in Edmunds expression, because he answered with a snort. "Fifteen."

Edmund nodded. "And children?"

This time he was completely silent, and would not answer. Edmund nodded slowly. "It is good that you protect them." He said quietly.

The harpy moved away, fluttering back towards a crude table on the other side of the room.

Edmund got to his feet, and stepped away from the pallet, towards the Minotaur. "Let's try this again from the beginning." He half smiled, reserving any judgement for when he saw the truth with his own eyes, he would not be suspicious just because they were Fell beasts, but he would not blindly trust. "I am King Edmund the Just, one of the four rulers of Narnia, and you are?" he inclined his head as he had been shown during lessons.

The Minotaur looked at him, a great frown furrowing his brows, but finally he nodded in return. "I am Maxus, temporary chief of this small community."

Edmund nodded, not expecting a bow. He turned to the Harpy. "I thank you dear lady for your aid of my injuries. May I know your name?"

The Harpy looked absolutely flabbergast at being so directly addressed. "Milrina... um... sir?" it was stuttered ad nervous.

Edmund smiled in some reassurance.

"Milrina is our healer; she was not one of those involved." Maxus told him.

"I had guessed." Edmund replied, and surprised himself by realising that he had indeed guessed that she was not involved with the Witch, she seemed a far too nervous sort to have ever had dealings with the Witch. He was beginning to find a growing respect for Maxus, who was taking such care to spare those in this small community from the wrath of a King.

Edmund looked at him. "Would you show me your community? I think I would like to stay for a short time, and meet the people. I am afraid we have been rather lax in assuming that all Fell creatures were hers to command. Please?"

Maxus wavered, but finally he nodded. Edmund was glad he was doing something right, and that his expressions were cooperating with him for once. He truly did want to meet these people. After all, if he could change, what was to say they could not?

x

Stepping outside he found it was early evening, the sky was still light, but gradually growing darker. He was surprised to suddenly have the little wolf cub bound over to him, small paws lifted and pressed to his knee's. His tail was sweeping happily a mile a minute, and Edmund could see why he was called Bright-spark, the tip of his tail was pure white, and as it waved it did indeed look like a bright spark.

He fought back nervous fear when he saw six dwarves nearby, reminded of the witches servant. Their discussion stopped abruptly when they noticed him, and he found himself on the receiving end of suspicious stares, not unlike those he sometimes received at Cair Paravel.

There were two other Harpies, but these he knew had been part of the witch's forces, they had a look about them, like the dwarves and Maxus did, the look of a soldier. The wolves were further away, three adults, to male and a female, and six cubs, the sisters mentioned earlier Edmund was sure. The female was watching with undisguised fear on her features for her son. There was a snow tiger, and a few other creatures he recognised from the battle, but could not name. A few female dwarves, with children clutching their skirts. All in all he counted ten children, but he was sure there were probably more hidden, after all, there were still four of the fifteen Maxus had mentioned unaccounted for, the children were quite young; their mothers would not have been fighting a war.

"Are you going to play with me now?" Bright-spark demanded to know, looking up at Edmund hopefully.

Edmund was torn, there was an innocence about the cub that reminded him of Lucy, and he wanted to say yes, but the look of fear on his mothers face stopped him. "I think perhaps you should ask your mother first?"

The cub frowned. "If I do will you play with me then?" he sounded so put upon.

Edmund bit back a smile. "If your mother says yes."

With an exaggerated sigh Bright-spark let all four paws fall to the ground and turned. "Mum! Can I play with the funny creature, please!" he yipped across the distance between them.

There was a tense silence as the whole camp waited for her reply; Edmund noticed that her eyes focused above and behind him, at Maxus, who must have given her some kind of reassurance, because she nodded, with only the slightest hesitation. Edmunds respect went up another notch for Maxus, he was well trusted here.

Bright-spark yipped happily and turned back. "Come on Funny creature!"

"Edmund." Edmund corrected with a smile. "Or Ed if you prefer."

The cub looked at him curiously. "Ed-mund?" he asked. "What a funny name. A funny name for a funny creature!" and he began to race around Edmunds feet, giggling at his own joke. Edmund found himself laughing at it too, a real honest laugh for the first time in a long while. This child trusted him, so completely and utterly. Bright-spark didn't know who he was, but had no fear of him. It was overwhelming.

Much to his surprise, the fact that he had laughed had actually helped relieve some of the tension in those around him.

x

The evening passed surprisingly easily, he had quickly gotten used to having Bright-spark follow him everywhere, occasionally joined by some of his sisters or the dwarf children. He spoke with everyone in the group, and found himself glad when they all echoed Maxus' words from earlier, that all they wished to do was live in peace.

As night fell fully Edmund was invited to stay in the place he had awoken, which he learnt was live in by Maxus and Milrina, and the snow tiger, Yarren. Bright-spark demanded to be allowed to stay with him, and his mother, who had grown to like Edmund when he had spoken to her, allowed it. Edmund promised to look after him, smiling.

Sitting in the darkness, Bright-spark curled up in his lap sleeping, Edmund listened to Maxus tell him about why they did in this dismal conditions, of their worry that should they be found Narnian's who had followed Aslan and Peter, that they would be killed, and that the child would suffer the same fate just because they were with them.

It sickened Edmund to think that this was exactly what would have happened had he not happened to fall in the river. And he decided, as he prepared to sleep, that he would not let it.

He found himself wondering briefly why it was he felt so much more comfortable here, surrounded by creatures that had before terrified him. But he did.

He slept.

x

The following morning Edmund was woken by Milrina, who had finally overcome her nervousness around him when she had seen how he dealt with the children. There was a flash when he woke, that images of his time at the witch's camp flashed before his eyes, and he stiffened in remembered fear, but it passed, and he smiled apologetically at Milrina before getting up.

He was offered breakfast by a dwarven mother when he went outside, he hated that he continued to almost flinch if a dwarf came near him without warning. It was hardly going to be conductive of earning their trust, but his experiences did not give him much other way of dealing with the flash of fear he felt every time.

But as long as he was not surprised by any of them he was fine, and he found them a rather witty group to talk with.

The morning passed pleasantly enough. He spoke some more with Maxus, asking where they intended to go to, where they felt they would be safest. He wanted to offer that they should come to Cair Paravel, but he knew it would not be a warm welcome they would receive, but he did make some suggestions of places he could remember from the old maps.

It wasn't until mid afternoon that things went wrong, very quickly.

x

Edmund recognised the sound of the battle horn, and the shouted orders to take the camp, but before he could yell something to Maxus and the others in the camp the Narnian army was already there, blades flashing.

"Stop!" Edmund screamed over the sounds of fighting, but no one listened to him.

He saw Peter and Oreius and printed through the fighting towards them. "Peter! Peter you have to order them to stop! Now!" he yelled, nearing his brother.

"Ed!" Peter cried, obviously relieved to see him. "Are you alright? Did they hurt you?"

"Peter, stop it. Order them to back down!" Edmund ignored his brother's words, and the confused look that spread over his face. "Peter there are children here. Stop the fighting!" In the corner of his eye he saw Bright-spark's mother, obviously defending her den, and without waiting for conformation from Peter, he bolted towards the wolves.

The blow that would have killed her instead caught Edmund on the shoulder, dislocating it, and leaving a bloody wound. The Faun staggered back, looking horrified at having injured one of his kings. Edmund collapsed, dimly hearing Peter screaming for everyone to stop. He felt small paws on his leg, and looked down at Bright-spark.

He summoned up a small, strained smile before he collapsed unconscious.

_Well, I seem to enjoy knocking him out at the moment don't I? I hope this was ok. I find I've fallen in love with little Bright-spark, and I want him all for my very own. Lol. I do hope Edmund was in character, and that it wasn't too strange a chapter._

_Please review._


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: third part and I think the last part (as I write it now) I know you were all worried about Ed, and little Bright-spark. Well here we are, Edmund shows us what he's really made of, and so the beginnings of the Traitor's Army are made known._

Traitors Arc: King Edmund the Just.

Edmund struggled back to wakefulness, forcing his eyes open despite the pain he felt, knowing only that the longer he spent in this darkness was longer not knowing what had happened after he had fallen. He prayed that Peter had stopped the battle, that he had stopped the slaughter. His eyes opened, squinting in the light, to see his brothers blond head, concerned eyes looking down at him, and he found himself missing the little wolf cub suddenly.

"Peter..." he began, cutting himself off with a hiss of pain as he moved his arm, "Peter, what happened?" he asked, voice hoarse.

Peter looked very relieved that he was awake, and helped him drink some water, which soothed his throat immensely. "You're ok. We weren't sure when you would wake up."

Edmund frowned at him, that wasn't what he had meant, surely Peter knew that. "What happened Peter, Swiftwind, is she alright? Are the cubs ok? Was anyone killed?" he demanded to know, worried about his newly made friends. "You didn't have them killed did you? Peter there were children, people who had nothing to do with the witch!"

Peter looked a little uncomfortable, and Edmund felt some dread well up in him at the sight. It must have shown on his face, because Peter was quick to reassure him. "No, no, they're all alive. They're being guarded now. Edmund, what happened? I was told you'd disappeared during the fight, no one knew what had happened."

Edmund was sure someone had made a comment on it, probably citing him as a coward who had run. He hoped that if such a comment had been made that Peter would not have believed it. "I fell in the river and was carried downstream. I don't know much else until I woke up; I think I hit my head on a rock. Are they being looked after Peter? They saved my life; I don't want them to be treated badly."

Peter once again looked uncomfortable, and Edmund could not understand why.

"Peter, what is it? Just tell me. Now." It was not a request.

Peter got to his feet, looking at Edmund. "Ed, they're Fell beasts, they worked for her. Why are you suddenly defending them? How do you know they saved you? Maybe it was all part of some plan. I don't like it Ed." He said.

Edmund was silent for a long moment, looking at his brother, wondering if he had felt like that before he had met this ragtag group. He knew he had, and it made him feel horrible. "Peter," he began quietly, gaining his brothers full attention. "You did see the children right? You saw how young some of them were. There was no way their mothers fought in that battle, and there is definitely no way the children fought. Fell creatures or not, they cannot be tarred with the same stick. It would be wrong."

"Just because they're children, it doesn't mean they couldn't have agreed with her." Peter pointed out.

Edmund thought quickly, and finally came up with what he thought was a good argument. "I chose to follow the White Witch in the beginning. Does that mean that you, Susan and Lucy should be called traitors of Narnia as well?"

Peter looked horrified, though whether it was at the thought of being called a traitor because of what Edmund had done, or at the fact that Edmund still referred to himself as a traitor was anyone's guess. Edmund tried not to think about what it meant. "Ed!" he whispered.

"You know I'm right Peter. If I can admit I was wrong and try to change, why can't they?" He gave his brother a significant look. "Have you spoken to any of them? Or did you just order them trussed up and watched carefully?"

Peter coloured slightly at that remark, and Edmund sighed. Shoving the blankets sown and off him, swinging his legs off the cot to the ground. Peter squawked, much like a mother hen as he did. "Ed, get back into bed, your hurt!"

"So are those you have under guard, I'm sure they haven't been tended to yet." He ignored his brother's hands and stood. "I'm going out to see them. You can either help me or not." He reached for a shirt that had been left out for him.

In the end Peter decided to help him, only to make sure his little brother did not do himself anymore damage.

x

Edmund strode as quickly, and as kingly as he could towards the prisoner, hiding a relieved smile when he heard little Bright-spark yelp out. "Funny Creature!" he was hushed quickly by the others around him. Edmund came to stand in front of Maxus, who watched him warily. Edmund was unsurprised by this.

"I'm sorry." He said sincerely. "I didn't know it would happen. I'm going to try and get you released."

Maxus shook his head stiffly. "I will not get my hopes up. Though I think you will do your best."

That was a compliment that made Edmund even more determined. These were his subjects, just as much as the Narnian's who had fought with them against the witch. In fact, these people were even more his people in a way he could not explain. And he would not fail them, not in this.

He was called King Edmund the Just, and by Aslan he was going to start living up to that name.

"I will see you freed, and when you are, I would ask you something. I will not ask you to do it out of any gratitude, but because I believe you, all of you, will benefit from it just as much as I." He told them determinately, his eyes sweeping over the whole downtrodden group. He nodded sharply and turned on his heel, and marched over to where he had left Peter. They had a few quick words before Peter called Oreius, Killian and a number of high ranking soldiers towards the High Kings tent.

x

"I am not going to negotiate this Peter. They need to be set free. They haven't done anything wrong." He held up a hand to forestall any objection from anyone. "All you have to do is talk to them for only a few minutes and you will see that all they want is to be left in peace. I want to give them that."

"King Edmund, surely you cannot mean that you trust them?" Killian looked scandalised at the very notion.

Peter snorted. "Edmund trusts too easily. That's what got him into this mess to begin with."

Edmund stiffened at the comment, and from the way Peters eyes widened and he looked so apologetic, he knew that it had not been meant in quite the way he had taken it. Edmund ruthlessly pushed aside his own feelings. Now was not the time for him, now was the time for his people. "What makes them any different to me Peter? Why is it I deserve Aslan's forgiveness, and they do not (he did not really feel he did, but saying that would not prove the point he wanted). They have told me that they no longer follow the way of the witch, that they wish to avoid conflict like that in the future. I believe them. Those in that group who did not work for her, the children, they don't deserve to be treated badly just because they happen to be the same kind of creatures we fought against."

He paused for a moment to let his words sink in. "There were draids, satyrs, even fauns who fought on her side, and yet we don't declare that all fauns must work for her, that all draids are secretly evil and must be treated as such. Yes, so none of their kind fought with us, but that doesn't mean that some of them didn't fight for her. We need to stop looking at this in terms of black and white, good and evil. Because it's anything but.

"If everything was black and white, if everything was written in stone, I would have been killed as a traitor on the stone table." Edmund looked at Peter imploringly, seeing his brother was wavering. "Please, just give them a chance. I have an idea, that I hope works."

"Idea?" Peter asked faintly.

Edmund half smiled. "I was thinking they could come back to Cair Paravel with us. That way you could keep an eye on them, and I can start some type of programme that will help all those who wish to join us do so. Think about it Pete, this way we can at least make sure that those that can be saved don't cross the Ettin border thinking it's their last hope for acceptance, and we lessen the chances of invasion, at least a little. Am I right Oreius?" he looked to the centaur.

Oreius appeared thoughtful for a long time, considering the idea carefully, before he finally nodded, a faint proud gleam in his eyes as he looked at Edmund. "It could King Edmund."

Peter looked between them, and finally threw his hands in the air. "I'm not going to win. Fine, have them released, but Edmund, any threat against you, us, Narnia, or our people, except for self defence, and I reserve all rights to shut this idea down." He was a fair person; he would not hold self defence against anyone.

Edmund grinned, and so happy was he that he had actually managed to do this, that he gave Peter a one armed hug before turning to leave the tent. He paused at the flaps though, as a thought struck him. "Peter... they're our people too... Or at least, they're mine." And he left. If anything else was said in that tent after he was gone he would never know of it.

x

"Release them, all of them." Edmund said, his eyes daring the guard to try and refuse his orders. "On orders of the High King."

The Faun looked a little nervous, shooting a look to his centaur companion, but he turned and did as he was bid, and freed the prisoners.

"Funny Creature!" Bright-spark, once freed, darted to Edmund, pausing hesitantly at his feet and looking up. "Are you ok? You were bleeding! Mum said you saved her! I never got to see, and then they didn't let me sit with you till you woke up. Why wouldn't they? Milrina let me watch you. Will you be able to play with me, or is your paw too hurt to? Why did all these people come? Nobody will tell me, and why did they keep us all here? My sisters were scared, but I wasn't. I'm brave. You believe me, don't you Funny Creature!" it was said in a rush that Edmund needed to take a moment to work out, but when he did he smiled.

He bent over to scoop the little wolf up into his good arm. "It's Edmund Bright-spark, remember. And I know you're very brave. You looked after your mum and sisters when they were scared right?" The little wolf nodded. "I should be able to play again soon. I promise. Now I need to talk with Maxus, I think you should maybe go make sure your mum and sisters are ok." He put Bright-spark back on the ground, the cub darted back to his family.

Edmund turned his attention to Maxus, but his words were for all those he had freed. "I would like for you to come back to Cair Paravel with me. If you do not wish to, I will not force you. But I have been considering setting up a personal guard, my brother already has a small one, and it is apparently a custom, and I would like to have you be a part of it. Those of you who do not wish to join the guard, or be part of the army, under my command, will be offered a place to live and a job if you wish it." He was making it up as he went along, but he would make it work.

His eyes focused more sharply on Maxus. "I would be honoured if you would consider being the head of my guards Maxus. You command great respect from those who follow you, and you do it without the threats and manipulation the witch employed. This alone sets you well apart from her, and I believe you could do much good for Narnia, if you wish that is, I don't want you to feel that you have to... I mean..." he shut himself up; afraid his sudden bout of nervousness would ruin what he was trying to do.

Maxus studied him for the longest time, and Edmund fought the urge to fidget under his gaze, he could feel Peter and Oreius somewhere behind him, watching the proceedings carefully, worriedly. He was aware that the whole camp had tensed up, but he couldn't begin to wonder why, and really, he was beginning to get to nervous to wonder why.

Why wasn't Maxus answering?

It came as a shock then when Maxus dropped to one knee before him, still taller than Edmund even then, and bowed his great bull head. "It is I who would be honoured, King Edmund the Just." It was gruff, and full of unspoken words, but Edmund understood.

And he smiled.

"Can I be in the guard too?" Bright-spark yipped suddenly, breaking the somewhat solemn mood in that way children have.

Edmund laughed and answered. "Maybe when you're a little older." He turned to look at Peter, and he basked in the proud look his brother graced him with, able to ignore the whispers that were spreading around the camp.

He thought that he understood it now. What it meant to be Just.

It meant giving second chances.

It meant letting the person prove themselves.

The End.

_There we go, see, I was right, last chapter. I'm rather proud of this little story. I think I've captured all I wanted to in it. As to what Peter, Oreius and everyone else actually thinks of what Edmund's doing, well, I couldn't very well switch pov to them, no matter how much I wanted to. It would have messed up the flow I was trying for. But I'm sure you could guess what they said in the tent after Edmund left._

_Please review, and keep a look out for the next story._ Loyalty.


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